“But you told me—”
“The truth is that you have stumbled upon a secret romance, Thane,” said Sir Tristram, with a great air of candour.
Thane looked from Sir Tristram’s imperturbable countenance to his sister’s indignant one, and gave it up. “I suppose it’s all a hum,” he remarked. “Are you coming into the parlour? There’s a devilish draught here.”
“Presently,” replied Sir Tristram, detaining Miss Thane by the simple expedient of stretching out his hand and grasping her wrist.
She submitted to this, and when her brother had gone back to the parlour, said: “I suppose I deserved that.”
“Certainly you did,” agreed Sir Tristram, releasing her. “You would have been well served had I really thrown cold water over you. Are you at all hurt?”
“Oh no, merely a bruise or two! Your intervention was most timely.”
“And if I had not happened to have been there?”
“I should have allowed them to drag me back here, of course, and fainted in Hugh’s arms instead of yours.”
He smiled a little, but only said: “You shouldn’t have done it.”
“Oh, perhaps it was not, as Eustacie would say, quite
“You might have been badly hurt,” he answered.
“Well, I was not badly hurt, so we shall not consider that.”
At this moment Ludovic strolled into the room, and slid his sound arm round Miss Thane’s waist, and kissed her cheek. “Sally, I swear you’re an angel!” he declared.
“Anything less angelic than her conduct during the past half-hour I have yet to see,” observed Sir Tristram. “An accomplished liar would be nearer the mark.”
“
“Did he?” said Ludovic. “Perhaps he is in love with her. I vow I am!”
“Cream-pot love, my child,” interposed Miss Thane composedly. “You are pleased with me for having rid you of those Runners. And now that they have gone, when shall we break into the Dower House?”
“Rid your mind of the notion that you are to make one of that party,” said Shield. “Neither you nor Eustacie will come with us—if we go at all.”
“Hey, what’s this?” demanded Ludovic. “Of course we shall go!”
Miss Thane looked at Shield with a humorous gleam in her eyes. “Now pray do not tell me that after all the trouble I have been put to to remove the bars of our adventure we are not to have any adventure!”
“I think you are likely to have all the adventure you could desire without going to the Dower House to look for it,” replied Shield. “I fancy the Beau’s suspicions will not be as easily allayed as the Runners’ were.”
“Well, if Basil comes spying after me himself, we shall see some sport,” said Ludovic cheerfully. “I wish you will discover when he means to go to town, Tristram.”
This was not a difficult task to accomplish, for the Beau, paying a friendly call upon his cousin that evening after dinner, volunteered the information quite unprompted. He wandered into the library at the Court, a vision of pearl-grey and salmon-pink, and smiled sweetly at Shield, lounging on the sofa by the fire.
Shield greeted him unemotionally, and nodded towards a chair. “Sit down, Basil: I’m glad to see you.”
The Beau raised his brows rather quizzically. “My dear Tristram, how unexpected!”
“Yes,” said Shield, “I’ve no doubt it is. I feel you should be told of an excessively odd circumstance. Are you aware that there have been a couple of Bow Street Runners in the neighbourhood, searching for Ludovic?”
For a moment the Beau made no reply. The smile still lingered on his lips, but an arrested expression stole into his eyes, as though he found such direct methods of warfare disconcerting. He drew up a chair to the fire and sat down in it, and said: “For Ludovic? Surely you must be mistaken? Ludovic is not in Sussex, is he?”
“Not that I am aware of,” replied Sir Tristram coolly, “but from what I could make out from the Runners someone has started a rumour that Eustacie’s smuggler was he.”
The Beau opened his snuffbox. “Absurd!” he murmured. “If Ludovic were in Sussex, he must have sent me word.”
“That is what I thought,” agreed Shield. “You are quite sure he has not sent you word?”
The Beau was in the act of raising a pinch of snuff to his nostrils, but he paused and looked across at his cousin with a slight frown. “Certainly not,” he answered.
“Oh, you need not be afraid to tell me if you have heard from him,” said Sir Tristram. “I wish the boy no harm. But if the rumour
The Beau did not say anything for several moments, nor did he inhale his snuff. His eyes remained fixed on Shield’s face. He shut his snuffbox again, and at last replied: “Perhaps. Yes, perhaps. But I do not anticipate that I shall hear from him.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “I am amazed that such a rumour should have arisen—quite amazed. It had not reached my ears. In fact, my errand to you had nothing to do with poor Ludovic, wherever he may be.”
“I am happy to hear you say so. What is your errand to me?”
“Oh, quite a trifling one, my dear fellow! It is merely that I find myself obliged to go to London on a matter of stern necessity tomorrow—my new coat, you know: it sags across the shoulders: the most lamentable business!— and it occurred to me that you might wish to charge me with a commission.”
“Why, that is very good of you, Basil, but I believe I need not trouble you. I expect to leave this place almost any day now.”
“Oh?” The Beau regarded him thoughtfully. “I infer then that Eustacie is also leaving this place?”
Sir Tristram replied curtly: “I believe so. Shall you be in London for many days? Do you mean to return here?”
“Why, yes, I think so. I shall remain in town for a night only, I trust. I have given the servants leave to absent themselves for no longer. Ah, and that reminds me, Tristram! I wish you will desire that fellow—now, what is the name of Sylvester’s carpenter? Oh, Johnson!—yes, I wish you will desire him to call at the Dower House some time. My man tells me the bolt is off one of the library windows. He might attend to it, perhaps.”
“Certainly,” said Shield impassively. But when his cousin presently went away, he looked after him with a faint smile on his lips, and said: “How very clumsy, to be sure!”
Ludovic, however, when the encounter was described to him on the following morning, exclaimed, with characteristic impetuosity: “Then tonight is our opportunity! We have gammoned the Beau!”
“He seems to have been equally fortunate,” said Shield dryly.
Ludovic cocked an intelligent eyebrow. “Now what might you mean by that?” he inquired.
“Not quite equally,” said Miss Thane, with a smile.
“No,” admitted Shield. “He did underrate me a trifle.”
Ludovic perched on the edge of the table, swinging one leg. “Oh, so you think it’s a trap, do you? Nonsense! Why should you? He can never have had more than a suspicion of my being here, and you may depend upon it we have convinced him that he was mistaken.”
“I do not depend upon anything of the kind,” replied Shield. “In fact, I am astonished at the crudity of this trap. Consider a moment, Ludovic! He has told me that he will be in London tonight, that he has given his servants leave of absence, and that the bolt is off one of the library windows. If you are fool enough to swallow that, at least give me credit for having more common sense!”
“Oh well!” said Ludovic airily. “One must take a risk now and again, after all. Basil daren’t lay a trap for me in his own house. Damn it, man, he can’t take me prisoner and hand me over to the Law! It wouldn’t look well at all.”
“Certainly not,” answered Sir Tristram. “I have no fear of Basil himself coming into the open, but you are forgetting that he has a very able deputy in the shape of that valet of his. If his servants were to catch you in the Dower House, and hand you over to the Law as a common thief, you would be identified, and beyond any man’s help, while Basil was still discreetly in London. He would dispose of you without incurring the least censure from anyone.”
